You Have a New Prompt at Your Private Terminal
by janiejanine
Summary: A series of prompted Mass Effect ficlets. The prompt that inspired each one is bolded at the top.
1. First Aid

**Zaeed/Chakwas, in the med bay.**

"Ouch!"

"Sit still." Dr. Chakwas rolled her eyes. Her job would be so much easier if it wasn't for the patients. Half of them would happily wade into a hail of bullets, but cringed at the sight of a needle.

"How did this happen?" she asked.

Zaeed snorted. "Tripped and fell on a bullet. What do you think?"

"Hmph. Of course someone shot you. How could they resist?"

His grumbling didn't really bother her. In her time, she'd operated on krogan crankier than this and come out without a scratch. Zaeed Massani was a purring kitten compared to that. But when he was annoyed, there was a rather attractive snarl in his voice, and she found herself accidentally-on-purpose trying to bring it out.

Zaeed shifted irritably, and the bed creaked in protest. Chakwas made a mental note to have that fixed.

She prodded a sore spot on his thigh. He jumped. "Son of a..."

"Oh, be quiet. The commander never complains, and I've patched up worse for her."

"She complains all the goddamn time. You just get off on torturing people."

"You have no idea what gets me off, Mr. Massani. Now sit still."

He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. Blessed silence reigned for the space of about two minutes.

"Watch where you're poking that, devil woman," he growled.

"Stop squirming, or I might hit something important."

"Sadist."

"Grouch."

She finished up as quickly as she could, and if she poked a little harder than necessary, no one had to know. As she shooed him out the door, she couldn't help but smirk. He might deny it, but she knew that someday, those beds were going to be used for something a lot less medicinal.


	2. Missed Connections

**Inspired by this imagineyourotp post: "Imagine your OTP having never met at all. But one day as Person A is walking throughout the park, they spot Person B just a few feet away. Person A stares at Person B, feeling the strongest connection, or as if they've met each other somehow. Person B looks towards Person A and their eyes widen, unmistakably feeling that same connection."**

Shepard leaned back against the park bench and breathed in the fresh spring air. It was a beautiful day, balmy and breezy and, for once, not raining. The weather, unfortunately, did not match her mood.

She wasn't sure why she'd stayed in Vancouver. It had been different when she'd had purpose, but now, three children, two grandchildren, and one divorce later, here she was, retired from the desk job she'd been relegated to after too many years in the field, with no family nearby, no career, and nothing to do.

She snorted at that thought and sat up again. Age may have taken the red out of her hair, and maybe a little of the speed out of her step, but her back was still straight and her eyes were still clear, thank you very much.

What did people do when they were no longer useful? She could find a hobby, she thought with resignation. Gardening, maybe. She sighed. She didn't feel like a wrinkled old lady, but the face she saw in the mirror every morning told her otherwise.

She was jolted out of her reverie by a panting ball of fur cannoning straight into her knees. A huge, fluffy mutt planted its paws on her lap, tail wagging, and looked up at her with a wide doggy grin.

Shepard grinned back. "Hey there," she said, and held out her hand for the dog to sniff.

"I'm so sorry," said an out-of-breath voice from somewhere over her shoulder. "He does that sometimes. Are you okay?"

"Of course," she replied. She ruffled the dog's fur as she turned her head, and stopped cold when she caught sight of its owner.

He looked to be around her own age, maybe older, with still-broad shoulders, a nose so straight it might have been drawn with a ruler, and a thick head of hair that she was reasonably sure was real. He must have been terribly handsome when he was young. Hell, he was handsome now, slight paunch and all.

She looked into his eyes, and she felt a spark of...was it recognition? She'd always prided herself on her memory for faces, but when she flipped through her mental file, nothing came up.

Her uncertainty was mirrored on his face. "Do I know you?" he asked.

She didn't think so. She'd gotten some press after Elysium, but that had been fifty years ago, and if he remembered her from that, his memory must be damn near eidetic. Even if it was, though, his connecting that girl with the woman she was now was unlikely.

"Not as far as I know." She stuck out her hand. "Kate Shepard."

He shook it. "Kaidan Alenko."

His grip was firm and warm, and her heart gave an unexpected skip of excitement. _Uh-oh_, said a little voice in her head. An even smaller voice whispered, _why not?_

With a start, she realized she'd been holding his hand for too long, and she dropped it, hoping he hadn't noticed. "Do you want to sit down?" she asked, before she could stop herself.

"Sure," he said.

As he settled in opposite her on the bench, she couldn't hold back a smile of anticipation.


	3. Popping the Question (Eventually)

**FemShep and Garrus, a proposal.**

Garrus stood in front of Shepard's door, nervously shifting his weight, lifting his hand to knock and putting it down again. He was ready to go. Everything in place. Speech rehearsed. Nerves under control. Mostly.

He'd stopped being awkward around her a long time ago, but these were special circumstances. Everybody panicked before they did this - at least, that's what he told himself.

He knocked, and the door slid open.

Shepard looked up as he entered the room, favoring him with a bright, beautiful smile. It gave him courage. It always did.

"There's something I need to ask you," he said without preamble, pulling the ring box from his pocket.

Her eyes went wide. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Yeah. I did some research, and I think this is the right thing. Is it?" Belatedly, he flipped open the top of the box.

"It is a common human tradition." EDI's voice echoed through the room, making them both jump. "However, in some cultures, it is acceptable to offer gifts of livestock, minerals, textiles-"

"Not now, EDI!" they said in unison.

"I apologize. I'll give you some privacy," EDI said, and fell silent. Garrus was sure that if she could have given a huffy sniff as she left, she would.

"You were saying?" prompted Shepard, looking up expectantly.

He gave it another shot. "Look, I-"

The _whoosh_ of the door interrupted him, and Traynor hurried through, looking frazzled. "Commander, we have a bit of a problem," she said, then stopped as she took in the tableau in front of her. "I'm sorry, is this a bad time?"

"We were kind of in the middle of-" Shepard began.

The comm pinged. "Hey, Commander," said Joker, "You should probably get up here."

"Shit," said Shepard. She gave Garrus a look of abject apology. "Looks like I have to go."

"Wait!" He took a deep breath and blurted "Shepardwillyoumarryme?"

She took his hand and grinned. "Of course."


	4. Leap

The field was exploding.

The thuds Shepard and Garrus had heard as they made their way out of the building had sounded worryingly like artillery strikes. Turned out, they were exactly that, carpeting the ground with fiery craters.

They'd hoped to get in and out before anyone knew they were there. Cerberus had caught up to them, though, and they were willing to go to great lengths to stop them - including, apparently, bombing the shit out of their escape route.

Shepard slammed the door shut and tapped her comm. "Cortez, do you copy?"

"Sorry, ma'am. Had to bug out. I'm about half a klick away, on the other side of the ravine." Cortez's voice crackled with concern and static.

"Roger that," Shepard said. "Stay out of trouble. We'll come to you."

She turned to Garrus. He knew what she was thinking; mountains on three sides, no cover, no handy tunnels or back doors. Unless every aircraft in the sky suddenly ran out of fuel in the next three seconds, they only had one choice.

His mandibles twitched. Of all the things he could be doing on a sunny afternoon, running through an artillery bombardment ranked low on his list of favorites.

"Ready?" she asked. He nodded. She threw open the door and they took off at top speed, zig-zagging around the pits and ducking to avoid the sprays of dirt.

Sprint. Dodge. BOOM.

He kept Shepard in his peripheral vision. Judging by the way she kept perfect pace with him, she was doing the same thing. Ready to pick each other up, if one should stumble.

This wasn't the worst spot he'd ever been in, but it wasn't good. Every time they were thrust into a life-or-death situation - about every other day, give or take - the question hovered at the back of his mind: what if this was his last day? There was always a split second, between his boots hitting the dirt and falling into his familiar position at Shepard's six, when he suddenly thought, with the tiniest sense of panic, _what the hell am I doing?_ Then his visor's HUD clicked on, the nerves vanished, and his concentration was set on the mission.

Most likely every soldier did that. It was easy to forget those moments, when a million anxious thoughts zipped through your brain instantaneously, once you were safely back on your ship. Thoughts like _did I do enough?_ and _why didn't I say it?_

_What if this is my last day?_

He caught his foot in a rut and chided himself. Trying to philosophize while running for his life was probably a bad idea.

He made his way across the field, focusing all his attention on not getting blown up, with surprising success. Finally, they reached a rocky outcropping and stopped short.

The only thing separating them from their ride home was a wide chasm, too big to leap across, with a muddy river flowing along the bottom. It was impossible to tell what lay underneath the water. Sharp rocks? Sandbars?

Cortez had mentioned a ravine. Crap.

"It might be deep enough," Shepard said doubtfully.

"Do we have a choice?" A shell interrupted him, exploding so close he could feel the heat sear the side of his face. The ground rumbled and they both staggered.

Once they'd righted themselves, Shepard looked him in the eye. "Think we can make it?" she asked.

No more time to waste. If this was going to be his last moment...well, he could do worse.

"Only one way to find out," he replied.

He took her hand and jumped.


	5. Lost

The building belched flame and collapsed with a muffled _boom_.

Mission accomplished. Shepard allowed herself a satisfied grin as she and Alenko turned their backs on the fiery ruin.

The rendezvous point was several klicks away. If the other teams had done their jobs, the batarian pirates in this sector would be down three hiding places, and the brand-new crew of the _Normandy_ would be up one successful first mission.

It was tough going. Outside was a wall of white. The snow was blowing almost sideways, the wind stealing her breath and stinging her eyes. The best way to cope with that kind of thing, she'd found, was mental paperwork-spend long enough writing up reports in her head, and she'd end up in a sort of waking coma, perfect for slogging through tedium and snowdrifts.

She started with Alenko's evaluation. She was impressed with his skill and his calm under fire. _And his biceps_, whispered a tiny voice in the back of her head. She swatted the voice away, irritated with herself for thinking about that _now_. Altogether, he kept quiet and did his job. She couldn't argue with that.

As they crested the last hill, one thing about the area struck her: there was no one there.

"What the hell?" she muttered. This had definitely not been part of the plan. "LT, check the coordinates."

He nodded. "Sir." He tapped his omni-tool, confidently at first, then with increasing agitation. "Oh, shit."

"What?"

"Comms are busted. So's the nav."

Her eyes widened as she checked her own equipment. "Mine, too. Think the explosion knocked them out?"

"No idea."

"So...we could be anywhere." So much for _mission accomplished_.

"Looks like."

"Shit," she said.

This was not the most illustrious moment of her career.

First priority was getting out of the cold. They were dressed for the weather, but they wouldn't last indefinitely, and the only shelter in the vicinity had just gone up in flames.

Shepard squinted. In the distance, she could just barely make out a dark shape in the snow-covered rocks. "Come on," she said, and began the trudging walk towards the shape, Alenko close behind.

When they reached it ten frozen minutes later, she was relieved to see that her hunch had been right: what had looked like a smudge in the mountainside was actually the opening to a small cave, with room enough for two. Inside, it was still cold, but dry, and the shrieking of the wind was reduced to a low roar.

Her omni-tool was out of commission, but her personal distress beacon might still be functional. She dug out the small plastic cylinder and pressed the button, and was rewarded with the blinking green light of success. She held the beacon up in a gesture of triumph.

"Got yours?" she asked. "Might as well use both, just in case."

"On it," he replied, rummaging through his pockets.

"We can bunker down here until they send out an SAR." She sighed. "Our luck, we'll get eaten by cave monsters."

"Good thing I brought silver bullets."

She barked a laugh. "I'd believe it." Judging from what he'd already pulled out, he had extra _everything_, from energy bars to what practically amounted to an entire medkit. The man was prepared. Impressive, considering she couldn't even tell where he'd stashed it all. No one's suit had that many pockets.

She sat down on the cave floor, leaning against the wall. It would be a while before they were picked up, so they might as well make themselves as comfortable as possible. Their suits were waterproof, but the hard-packed snow was still chilly. She couldn't suppress a shiver.

Alenko slid down next to her. "Cold?"

"It was warm where I grew up."

He smiled, and for the first time she noticed the little crinkles around his eyes. "I'm from Canada. This is just like home."

"They live in caves in Canada?" she teased.

Now that she'd gotten used to it, the storm outside just sounded like white noise, almost soothing. She felt oddly sleepy.

"Nope. But caves aren't so bad. Better in here than out there."

She murmured her agreement. "I'm glad to be away from the smoke." The smell of smoke, to her, would always mean disaster. "Smells like Mindoir."

The moment the words left her mouth, she wished she could grab them out of the air and stuff them back in. How had that slipped out?

He gave her a sharp look. "You were there?"

She nodded and looked away. Something about him inspired confidence, but she didn't want to confide.

He didn't press. He must have gotten the hint.

She shivered in silence.

When his voice broke the quiet, she jumped. "You can, uh, lean on me. For warmth. If you want," he said, sounding just a bit uncertain.

He _did_ look warm. Her teeth chattered.

What the hell. She moved closer, her hip nudging his. He wrapped his arm around her (_biceps!_ trilled the little voice in her head) and she snuggled into his side. It was nice, she thought, being close to another person like this, even if he was more or less a stranger. A very attractive stranger, but still.

She might as well enjoy it. Given the choice, she'd rather not die of hypothermia, and, after all, it couldn't go any further than this. It was worth taking a chance.

Despite her reservations, some small part of her hoped the rescue crew would take its time.


End file.
